


Not Now

by blerdxlines



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Light Angst, POV First Person, Pet Names, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 16:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19009867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blerdxlines/pseuds/blerdxlines
Summary: Ever since Thanos was defeated and the world restored, Bruce has thrown himself back into his gamma radiation studies. You've been by Bruce's side for a while now and when you weren't out working and living your own life, you were there forcing Bruce to live his.





	Not Now

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic on Ao3-- or ever, considering I've never posted them publicly before.
> 
> Shoutout to @shes-claws-deep for the invite!

Ever since Thanos was defeated and the world restored, Bruce has thrown himself back into his gamma radiation studies. Often working quietly in his lap for hours, give or take the clatter of a knocked over pencil cup that he insists on leaving on his desk beside his mouse.  
He finds himself beginning to isolate from the world-- classic Bruce-- but he isn't just Bruce anymore. He's the Hulk. A literally larger than life figure that has recently managed to fall into the public's adoration. They loved Hulk. They even made Hulk selfie filters. But their love felt one sided. They loved the gentle giant, but thought little of the gentile that lived within him.

That's where you come in. Having known Bruce long before his Avengers ties, you'd initially met as colleagues turned booty call before reconnecting after the snap. You've been by his side for a while now and when you weren't out working and living your own life, you were there forcing Bruce to live his. That includes getting him out of his comfort zone. 

Bruce has small, passive aggressive ways of making you aware that he doesn't want to be bothered: he locks his lab door, turns off all the lights, doesn't answer his phone, and leaves a long grocery store receipt of TV dinners on the fridge just so you know he won’t be leaving for a while.  
Knowing good and well he'd like some solitude, you chose to ignore all of these things and pay his lab a visit.

There he is, hunched over his iMac which looks like a child’s tablet compared to him, reading glasses perched on the rim of his nose, salt and pepper locks strewn about like he'd been running his fingers through his hair. A nervous tick he develops when he's stressed out.  
You try and turn the handle only to realize not only is the door’s locked-- but he'd recently installed a microphone security system. “Extra security measures” he’d come to call it.

Humoring him, you press the silver buzzer and hear a faint door bell ring inside. As if he knew it was you ringing and could hear you telling him to fix his posture, he sat up straight pressing a button on a hologram screen beside his monitor. His voice was a bit raspy, like he hadn’t spoken for a bit.  
"What's up babe? I'm pretty busy. Doing some important research right now."  
"Bruce, I have better eyesight than you, I can see you're reading The Onion right now."  
He froze for a moment before responding. "You know, some of their headlines are very plausible. They had story last week, about Bill Nye’s 5 year relationship with his lab monkey that was just scathing--"  
"--Maybe you can read it to me over a short stack at IHOP."

  
His shoulders slumped, "Aw babe, not now, I'm sorry, I just-- I gotta get this done for the Oxford Journal of Radiation Protection Dosimetry and--"  
"--Why don't I just hang out in here and answer some of my emails while you work then?"  
"Aw, babe, you know I like to do research alone."  
"Ah yes, one of the many things I've come to love about you." A hard edge of sarcasm in your tone.

Bruce sighed. "I'm sorry babe, just not now."

  
There was silence for a bit, so long that Bruce began to wonder if you'd actually accepted his bullshit excuse and moved on with your day. He promptly realized this wasn’t the case when he heard the door knob turn open and the overhead fluorescents flickered on.  
He sighed, deflating in his chair as he heard you approach. Sure, he was part Hulk, but something about your eerily calm response made his butt hole clench in agony. 

You rested your hand on the back on the back of his chair before easing it’s way up his shoulder blades. Had he not been part Hulk, you'd be concerned by how stiff his traps are at the moment. Although resistant for a moment, he leaned into your warm touch. He hadn't realized how cold he'd been in his lab.  
Your fingers stroked gently through his hair, and almost as if he'd been been on a drug induced high, fatigue slowly began to set in and his eyes began to ache. He set his glasses on the desk in front of him, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to quell the burning sting he felt when he closed his eyes.  


This new, stronger body of his could work like this for a good week and experience no fatigue whatsoever, but he was beginning to test his limits.

  
"How long has it been?" Bruce’s voice, tired and shriveled.  
"13 days."  
"Jesus-- 13 days..." He blinked awake, glancing around the room and everything slowly came into color: the discarded dinner tray towers decorating the floor beside the trash can, a sink full of equal parts beakers and coffee mugs, and in the reflection of his sleeping monitor, there was you. A concerned and tired expression adorning your otherwise optimistic face. 

He swiveled to face you, gently tugging your wrist from his hair and pressing his lips against your palm.  
"My hero!" He cracked in a chalky falsetto voice. "Thank you for rescuing me."  
You giggled, his childish humor one of the things you also loved about him. He rested your palm against his warm cheek.

"How can I ever repay you, brave warrior?"

The shtick was beginning to get old, but you played along.

“Let’s set sail the International Kingdom of Pancakes at once.”

He laughed as he stood from his chair, an audible cracking echoing from his joints.

“Ooph--But first, we must retrieve my wallet so I can pick up the tab.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, stick around-- I'll be posting more fan fics soon!  
> Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/blerdxlines  
> Tumblr: https://blerd-lines.tumblr.com  
> Ko-Fi: https:www.ko-fi.com/blerdxlines


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